Vying For Your Affection
by Zarafla Kirtan-Pherrin
Summary: Omar Le Mat, the new student around campus, brews up competition between himself and Bradley Uppercrust... for Max Goof! Set after the X Games. This is a crossover of Rock&Rule and An Extremely Goofy Movie.
1. The Red Head

Vying For Your Affection-

Paired Couple: Bradley UppercrustXMax GoofXOmar

_A/N: All characters within belong to their rightful owners. If you don't like what is written therein, I suggest you find a different hobby besides bashing on fanfiction. All others, enjoy my madness! This will corrupt your mind!_

It was another day at the college campus that a certain dark haired Goof kid was making his way around on his skateboard, his friends, Bobby Zimmeruski in his rollerblades and PJ Pete on his bicycle, in tow. The three college Sophomores whooped and laughed at the mere thrill of speed and exhilaration.

Finally reaching the double doors that marked the dorm building, Max jumped off his skateboard and tucked it under his arm as he headed up the concrete steps. His pals followed after him, PJ taking the bike and locking it with a chain against the railing and Bobby stepping up carefully.

"What do you think is going to be on the quiz in Chemistry?" PJ asked his friends as they approached the stairwell that led to the second floor.

"Probably something to do with atomic theory, since that's all that Mister Winthrop has been mainly talking about for two days." Max replied.

"Hey guys, why are we even talking about this stupid quiz?" Bobby asked in his usual, laid back attitude.

"'Cause if I don't pass Chem before the semester ends, my dad's gonna kill me! I already have a barely passing grade as it is..." PJ groaned. "Plus, I haven't studied for it yet, because I've been too busy trying to not fail History, and then there's-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Bobby interrupted, putting an arm around his shoulders. "Chillax, bro... Me and Max will help ya. You can just copy our notes and then you can study for it. Piece of cake!"

Just as the three started to walk up the winding staircase, a guy with bright red, shoulder length hair bumped into Max going the opposite direction. The acoustic strapped to his back fell from his shoulders and onto the floor in a loud _thud_.

"Hey! Watch where you're going, idiot!" The guy yelled, picking up his acoustic and carrying it in his arms like as if he held a small child.

"Watch where I'm going? You're the one who ran into me!"

"Fuck off, Freshie..." With an extended middle finger flashed in the air, the red head in the green jacket, black tank top, and jeans headed down the main corridor and out the front doors of the building.

Cupped hands magnified Max's voice across the hallway. "That's Sophomore to you, jerk off!" He turned back to his friends, all of them making their way upstairs. "Who does he think he is, some rock star?"

"That's Omar Le Mat," Said a voice from one flight of stairs above them.

She had dark hair and a demure body structure, which a black turtleneck and soft, black pants accentuated. Her piercing blue eyes peeked out from underneath her beret in mild amusement as her lips quirked into a half smile. The woman leaned her forearms against the railing of the stairs; a messenger bag sat on the floor next to her feet.

PJ smiled widely up at her. "I thought you weren't going to be coming back for the next couple of days, Vicki."

"My folks decided to cut the trip short. How is my papa-dog?"

"Overjoyed, now that you're here!"

Both Bobby and Max exchanged exasperated glances, still not used to their friend's poetic monologue whenever Vicki Lewis was around.

"So who's Omar exactly?" Bobby queried.

Vicki walked down the steps to meet them on the landing inbetween the staircases. "He's a transfer student from Rockland University over three towns away. He's in my Creative Writing class. Today was his first day here."

"Hmmm... Any reason why he's a dick, though?" said Max.

"Hey, don't sweat it, my man. He might have had a bad day, or something. Don't let his bad vibes ruin yours."

Suddenly from the floor above them, where Vicki had been standing moments before, a voice shouted down to them.

"Oh, ladies and gentlemen, let's give a big round of applause to the scion today!" Came the sarcastic drawl of a certain Senior. "As always, she can compress the most words into the smallest idea of any person I know!"

The friends looked up and saw the detested face of the college Senior, Bradley Uppercrust the Third. His group of cronies cackled around him, with large, booming laughter coming from his body gaurd and best friend, Tank.

"What do you want, _Brad_?" PJ boldly yelled up the stairwell.

The Senior gave a nonchalant shrug and one of his signature smug smiles. "I thought I'd visit my favorite people in the world and see what kind of misfortune has struck them today. It's a favorite pasttime of mine."

Before any of the boys could open their mouths for a comeback, Vicki snapped her fingers. "Come on, boys, let's go. After all, there's nothing wrong with him that reincarnation won't cure."

~/~/~/~/~/~/

The four friends found themselves at the Bean Scene down the street from campus minutes later, pouring over textbooks as they drank hot coffee from plastic containers.

"So, to arrive at the electron configurations of atoms, you must know the order in which the different sublevels are filled. That means electrons enter available sublevels in order of their increasing energy. A sublevel is filled or half-filled before the next sublevel is entered. Do you get it now, PJ?" Max asked his best friend, whom was staring blankly at the page in the textbook.

"C'mon, Peej, you gotta be able to remember at least that. It's the easiest lesson in Chem!" Bobby called to him from across the table, reading a magazine in between the pages of Principia Mathematica.

"I just don't get it!" PJ finally said at last, letting his face fall onto the table. "It's hopeless!"

"Okay, think of it this way: the s sublevel can only hold two electrons, so the 1s is filled at helium, for example. The p sublevel can hold six electrons, the d sublevel can hold 10 electrons, and the f sublevel can hold 14 electrons. Like this."

On a sheet of paper, Max wrote: b[Ne]3s2/b.

PJ looked at the paper, analyzing it. "I think I'm starting to get it." He managed to say at last.

A second later, the door to the coffee shop opened. Vicki looked over from her copy of uThe Physical Principles of the Quantum Theory/u with a smirk.

"Look who decided to drop in, Max. Your favorite person."

Sure enough, when Max looked over at the doorway, he saw the red head enter with his acoustic strapped to his back. Omar Le Mat walked over to the counter and ordered black coffee in a gruff manner.

"Ugh... What's he doing here?" Max grumbled.

"Can't you tell?" She asked him, picking up her latte and sipping from it. "He's here to perform."

"Perform?"

As soon as the question fell from Max's lips, Omar had placed his coffee on the far side of the counter and walked over to the stage, the lights dimming. The red head sat upon the stool in front of the mic and turned his acoustic over his shoulder, taking a pick out of his pocket.

Strumming the chords, he began to play...

"Time's not sleeping and time won't lose... You can't win 'cause time can't lose... So stop what you're doin'..."

Bobby pulled the shades from his eyes, peering over them in surprise. "Is he doing an acoustic version of _Tonight It's You_?"

"Yea! He totally is!" PJ said enthusiastically, recognizing the lyrics.

"He's really talented. When he was introduced to class last hour, he demonstrated an acoustic cover of Alice Cooper's _Ballad of Dwight Fry_." Vicki flipped a page of her text book without even looking up. "You can't beat old classics like that."

"Hmph. If he's so talented, why doesn't he come up with his own songs?" Max asked, trying to look unimpressed.

"Omar's a starving artist, obviously. He spends little funds on himself, except to feed his creative endeavors. Hence why he wears such threadbare clothing. Whenever he gets into a creative rut, however, he then spends his time doing covers instead to try to be as good as the masters of rock themselves."

PJ looked at his girlfriend with a raised eyebrow. "How do you know so much about him?"

"Don't start thinkin' with your eyes... I don't know... Why you mean that much to me... You don't know..."

She shrugged, nonchalant. "It's what he told the class. The rest, about him being a starving artist, is from mere observation. Take it from someone who had went through that." She gave PJ a smile over her almost empty cup.

~/~/~/~/

Somewhere, far off in _The Bean Scene_ sat a certain Senior in shadow, drinking from a mug of dark, black coffee whilst observing the new student on stage. The red head that seemed to want to make a name for himself. Omar Le Mat. The very name didn't settle well on his tongue.

_So... this is who had harassed Max earlier... interesting..._

As he watched the small study group get up and leave the coffee house, he stayed in his seat, contemplating this new information. Even when that Omar kid picked up his cold coffee and left, he still sat there, processing all of the things he had overheard from Vicki.

Finally, the Senior got up from his chair and placed two one dollar bills on the table and exited the underground cafe.

He was going to make sure that no one-not even this new arrival; this _Canadian_-would get his hands on Max Goof.

~/~/~/~/

_A/N: Woo boy! Things are getting interesting real quick! And this is only the first chapter! R&R and stay tuned!_


	2. Secrets Like The Darkness

Vying For Your Affection-

Paired Couple: Bradley UppercrustXMax GoofXOmar/SLASH!/Lemon

_A/N: All characters within belong to their rightful owners. If you don't like what is written therein, I suggest you find a different hobby besides bashing on fanfiction. All others, enjoy my madness! This will corrupt your mind!_

Later on that night, while PJ and Bobby soundly slept in their beds, Max quietly made his way to the dorm door, holding his sneakers in his hands, completely dressed. The hood of his jacket was pulled low over his face, hiding his features from possible prying eyes.

He had been sneaking out routinely for the past few months just like this. If his friends ever found out about his nighttime strolls, and where they always took him, they would flip.

Max quietly slid through the open door of the dorm room and gently closed it behind him, locking it with his key. Slipping his shoes on, he quickly made his way over to the stairwell at the far end of the corridor and took the steps downward two at a time.

A rare, genuine smile plastered itself upon his face underneath the dark shadows of his hood.

Making it outside of the dorm building, he crossed through the courtyard of the campus and walked briskly to the adjacent street and hung a right. The moon was a sliver of white in the perfect, cloudless night sky, and Max lifted the hood off his head for a moment to feel the rustle of the light breeze on his face.

The night always masked dirty secrets in a veil of security and quiet thrills... that no one had to know about. It would always be a tantalizing feeling.

Replacing the hood back over his face, he walked up to the sprawling house in front of him and softly rapped his knuckles on the frame of the double doors. The door on the right opened slightly, the internal gloom a welcoming-and relieving-presence. A hand reached out and grabbed Max's wrist, gently pulling him inside the house.

As soon as he made it past the threshold, the door was quickly shut and locked by the shadow that had pulled Max in. Still taking his hand, the shadow led him down a dark corridor, dim lights dappling the checkerboard flooring from in between the heavy curtains that otherwise enveloped the windows. Passing the ghostly image of the grand staircase, Max and his impatient guide finally stopped before a door with an eye inscribed into the wood near the ceiling. The door glided on oiled hinges and the two of them stepped inside the chamber.

As soon as he was eagerly pulled through, Max felt himself being pushed up against the door, which successfully closed it. Light breathing tickled his face.

"Did anyone follow you?" Came the cautious whisper, like a silken caress.

"No." He sighed.

"Good-"

Immediately, Max's dark companion leaned all of their weight against him and started to leave gossamer trails of lips on his neck and jawline, just before crashing their mouth on top of his in frenzied, desperate haste. The darkness concealed their face and blurred the silhouette into the background, like dark, navy blue ink smeared on a canvas of black. Max groaned as teeth pulled on his bottom lip.

Hands wandered greedily down his clothed body; peeled off his jacket from his shoulders. The dark material pooled at the Goof boy's shoes.

Hunger... need... It was more than he could bear...

With aching desire pounding through his veins, Max managed to ricochet the two of them from the door. His guide of sweet sin lead them to a canopy made of mahogany, silk, and velvet.

This friend of carnality pushed him onto the four poster mattress, rudely breaking their wrestling tongues. A fire so potent spread up his thighs and slithered along his spine, teasing arousal from his very pores. Goof boy panted with a thirst for more. He gripped the dress shirt and undid the buttons, intruding upon a toned torso with his callused fingertips, feeling the erratic heartbeat against his palms as he pushed the soft fabric away.

He could almost imagine the leering grin above him, when the dark chuckle confirmed his suspicions of the other's amusement.

"Geez, _Goof-boy_, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were enjoying this." Came the mocking laughter of Bradley Uppercrust the Third.

"Well," Max huffed, pulling at his own belt buckle, "as I understand it, you've always thoroughly enjoyed yourself during these '_encounters'._"

The senior above him shook his head, giggling a little on the inside, and lowered himself down next to his adversary.

"And what would you consider these '_encounters'_ to be?"

After a few moments, Max managed to kick off his pants and boxers, along with his shoes and socks, and was beginning to tug his shirt over his head when he felt a pair of hands grip his. Although he couldn't see him, couldn't see the light blue orbs looking at him, he stopped and looked back into the darkness that surrounded him.

He leaned up on his elbows and kissed him-a weak kiss that betrayed a sort of complacent nature about him.

This was just the sugar-coating. The frosting over what laid beneath.

"Exactly what it is. And nothing more."

Bradley thought he saw a flash of red in the blackness-exactly where Max's eyes should have been. But, like any sane person that thought they saw something for only a split second or less, but couldn't be sure, he shrugged it off.

He was just a little tired, that's all.

To Be Cont.~

_A/N: Hmmm... Nah! Nothing to worry about here! ;P R&R like always! More to come!_


	3. Arbitrary Emotions

Vying For Your Affection-

Paired Couple: Bradley UppercrustXMax GoofXOmar Le Mat/SLASH!/Lemon

_A/N: All characters within belong to their rightful owners. Enjoy another segment!_

A whimpering sigh escaped Max's lips at the sudden intrusion. His legs dangled over the senior's forearms, as Bradley held them both up. They looked onward into darkness. Since there was nothing to see, Max closed his eyes as a steady rhythm began rocking them into a sweet, spiraling oblivion. All he could feel was the excruciating pleasure blossoming inside-

He would never get used to this.

A disparaging fruit. This simply did not happen in a sane world.

This was a far cry from anything "normal".

Eventually, Bradley dropped Max's legs, feeling them heavily weigh down his arms within minutes. But he continued climbing, reaching farther, for the pinnacle.

A gasp! The senior could feel his body quaking with the moment, the seams ripping...

Max was having a harder time of it. As he had shut his eyes, despite the lack of anything to see with his eyes open, images-dark and nonsensical-began to stream through his consciousness. Although the heat of the moment was making his body flex and taught like a quivering bow string, his mind raced with a burning confusion, erasing the present and replacing it with faint twisted, shattered dreamscapes.

"_Oh Maxie boy..."_ Laughter erupted inside his head. Cold, dispassionate.

Something was stirring-

**Not yet.**

Max opened his eyes, breathless and feeling numb. His skin flecked with goosebumps; a ghostly tickling sensation.

"Aaah..." A whispering scream of release escaped the senior's lips above him. Max soon followed after with his own muted moans. "...Bradley..."

_A delectable fruit covered in thorns..._

~/~/~/~/

"So what was with that red-head today?"

"Hm?"

"You know... The guy you ran into in the stairwell earlier today? And at the cafe?"

An uneasy shift among the silken sheets. "How do you know all about that?"

"C'mon. You know I keep tabs on people."

Max propped himself on an elbow, laying on his right side to face the jock. "You stalking me, Brad?"

"No, my dear Maximilian. I just merely observe." A chuckle. "You should know me by now..." It melded into disappointment.

Goof boy laid his head down on the pillow.

"So?"

"What about him?"

"What's his deal with you? Seems like you like to cause trouble wherever you go."

"Pffft. As if! The guy's an asshole, that's all."

"...I see..."

"What? Are you...?"

Blue eyes hardened like steel. "Please. Spare me the label of someone who has those kind of inferior emotions."

_A/N: Okay! So, I know these chapters are getting a bit shorter here and there, but there's a reason for this: I don't wanna ruin surprises by bringing them up too quickly! Plus, I like to have a set pacing for things to come. We have in this chapter something going on with Max. Sounds like he's losing his marbles or something, doesn't he? Well, you'll just have to stay tuned to figure that one out! :D R&R as always!_


	4. The Waste Land Of Rivalry

Vying For Your Affection-

Paired Couple: Bradley UppercrustXMax GoofXOmar Le Mat/SLASH!/Lemon

_A/N: All characters within belong to their rightful owners. Sorry for the long awaited update. My computer was going through some major repairs. Enjoy!_

Max made it back to his dorm that morning, feeling drained and ready to crawl under the covers. Although he had slept a little bit at the Gamma House, Bradley had woken him up and sent him on his way when the world took a faint, light blue glow of early morning mist in November. Looking around, Max saw the half-buried digital clock read 5:12 AM under a pair of black boxers on his nightstand. He grunted, not liking that he would have to be ready to go to his other classes in about two hours.

Rubbing the heel of his palms into his eyes, he sat down on the edge of the bottom bunk bed (the top was Bobby's) and lazily kicked off his sneakers as he listened to the contented snores of his room mates, envying that they would have a healthy ten hours of sleep to work off of compared to his meager four. Without stripping off his pants, shirt, and jacket, he curled up into bed, too tired to care.

It felt as if five minutes had passed by when the alarm clock blared the song "_Stand Out"_, by Powerline, into Max's ears. Someone-he believed it to be Bobby-clicked the snooze button on the clock and rolled back over to sleep. Across the room, he heard PJ sit up in his bed and yawn.

"C'mon, Max. It's time to get up." PJ said aloud, shaking his friend awake. "You too, Bobby." He said to the sleeping form on the top bunk.

"What time is it?" Queried the irritated Sophomore with the orange mohawk. "It can't be a quarter past six, at least."

"It's almost seven-twenty, dude." Max answered, barely mumbling the words past the pillow that he crushed underneath his head and partly against his face. 

"Well, damn it then!"

"Wake up, Max. We have to get ready."

"I'll be up in a minute, Peej." Max snuggled into his worn bed, making no effort to do as he said he would. The heavy blanket was torn off, decreasing the temperature only slightly.

"Jeez, dude, is it that cold? Why are you sleeping with your jacket on?" Bobby demanded.

"Well... it is cold."

"It's about seventy degrees in here, man."

Max sat up, yawning. "I went for a walk last night. What's it to you?"

"Last night? When?"

"About midnight. Maybe a little earlier."

"Couldn't sleep?" PJ asked.

"...Yea."

"That's not like you, bro." Bobby said with slight concern as he slipped on a white t-shirt. "You usually are the first or second one to pass out. I'm the one usually staying up for an hour later, playing video games or something, before I turn in."

"I dunno. I just felt like getting fresh air." Max shrugged, kicking off his dirty jeans and throwing on a new pair.

Bobby and PJ exchanged looks. Although they wouldn't admit to it, they knew that it had to have been for more than fresh air. The two had discussed about it for four days now. Every night, either one or the other would wake up momentarily to go to the bathroom or get a drink of water, only to discover that Max was missing from his bed.

Something was up with their best friend and it worried them that he wouldn't mention what was really going on.

~/~/~/~/~/

He sat in the back row of the classroom, leaning back casually, as he idly spun his pencil between his fingers. Several girls passing his desk batted their eyes and said hello to him this very dreary Tuesday afternoon. It looked like it was going to rain later in the day...

He ran a hand through his meticulously kept brunette locks, but stopped his hand midway through the strands when he spotted Maximilian Goof among the thinning crowd that made its way into the classroom. He gave a small smirk to the unknowing Sophomore, his eyes glittering with a mirth that no one would notice. To anyone else, his smile resembled a sneer. Of course, his slightly good mood was altered when Tank took a seat next to him, accidentally nudging into him and knocking a book onto the floor.

"Sorry, Bradley." He mumbled meekly, getting back up from his seat to retrieve the book.

A sigh of impatience. "It's quite alright, Tank."

As the big Senior straightened up, the heavy book in one hand, he looked over at the door down below. "Hey, Bradley! Take a look at the fresh meat that joined our class!"

Bradley looked down from his seat, spying a guy in a black wifebeater, beat up jeans, second-hand tennis shoes, and long, shaggy red hair walking into class. An acoustic was strapped to his back.

As soon as everyone took a seat, the fifty-two year old Professor at the front of the room cleared his throat and said, "Good afternoon, students! Now, before we can begin the lecture, I'd like to introduce a new member of our campus. His name is Omar Le Mat. He's from Quebec, Canada, and had recently attended Rockland University just before he transferred here yesterday. Please do make him feel welcome." He directed the red head to a seat three rows ahead of Bradley...

...and two seats away from Max.

The pencil broke in his hand.

~/~/~/~/~/~/

Max lifted an eyebrow in curiosity, but didn't make a comment to PJ, who sat next to him on his right, nor to Bobby, who sat behind him.

Omar had propped his feet up on the empty chair in the row in front, taking out a notebook and pen from a book bag that had been strapped across his back. The acoustic sat on the floor in front of him, sitting up against the back of the theater-like seat.

"Now, as we were talking about last class, T.S. Eliot's _The Waste Land_ depicts..."

Max pulled out his notebook and began taking notes, yawning widely. Suddenly, a shiver crawled up his spine and he quickly looked over at the new student. He could have sworn that this Omar had just looked at him. Sighing, he shook his head and continued to doodle on the paper, like he had been for the past two minutes when he lost interest in Mr. Burkley's lecture almost immediately.

Just because this guy pushed him in the stairwell yesterday, it wasn't any reason to hold a stupid grudge.

"..._'these ascended in fattening the prolonged candle-flames, flung their smoke into the laquearia, stirring the pattern on the coffered ceiling.'_ Can anyone tell me why, in this verse, Eliot mentions perfume, and what their imagery has in context with this passage? Mr. Goof?"

"Huh?" He looked up, eyes slightly drooping and unfocused.

"Could you tell us about what the perfume means in this passage?"

"Well, uh..." He racked his brains as several pairs of eyes pointed him out. "I think that it means... that... uh... this Eliot dude needs a shower?"

Several chuckles burst around the class after an embarrassing few moments of silence.

"Mr. Goof," Burkley sighed, a frown creasing his overly large mouth. "While you may be abysmal in grasping the finer points of literature and their underlying connotations, I'd appreciate it if you'd at least paid attention." He turned and spotted another student. "Mr. Jameswith, if you would please tell us what the perfume stands for?"

While the student, whose voice rose from the very highest tier of the seats, answered the question and Burkley continued on with the lesson, a deep rumble of muffled laughter came from Max's left.

"Something funny?" Max ground out.

"Actually, yes." Omar said, a smile failing to fade from his lips. "I just can't believe someone like you could get into this class. Where do you put all your brain power? Surely there's not enough for you to keep steady on your own two feet?"

The black dog flushed with anger. PJ kept a steady hand on his shoulder in warning, also glowering at the red-head.

"You wanna say that again, _Omar_? Besides, what kind of name is that anyway? Your parents not love you enough?" Bobby hissed at him over his friends' shoulders.

Omar laughed again, eyeing all three of them. "Wow! Petty insults, now, is it? Please, don't go through any trouble trying to come up with something more clever to throw at me; I know you won't be able to without going through the dictionary-although, your ability to go through one at all would surprise me!" He turned back to his notes.

Max made to stand up from his seat, but both his friends kept him from doing so. "Oh yea? Well I'd say that your 'creativity' in making song covers shows an obvious lack in taste, as well as skill. I'm shocked that anybody lets you carry an acoustic at all without blowing their brains out first just to avoid hearing it!"

The insufferable Canadian turned in his seat, eyes wide in mock surprise as his face settled in a mildly amused expression. "Oh. So there_ is_ wit in there after all!" his green eyes glittered with mirth. "That's a pleasant surprise! And here I was, thinking that my words were wasted on going over your heads!"

As Max glared wickedly at Omar, the red-head thought he saw a flash of red cross those dark eyes. He blinked, his smile now wiped in sudden confusion.

_Hmmm... Well isn't this interesting..._

**-None of your goddamn business!**

_Tsk. Max, Max, Max... My dear Maximilian. When are you going to learn that your business is _my _business, too?_

"_Ahem._" Came a dry cough in front of them. Mr. Burkley stood there, arms crossed, as he peered at the four of them through his half-moon glasses. "If you're all finished with this metaphorical pissing contest, perhaps we could get back to _The Waste Land_?"

Forty-five minutes later, PJ, Bobby and Max left the classroom, ready to make their way to Calculus.

"Can you believe the nerve of that guy? Who does he think he is, thinking he can laugh at us?" PJ said on an outburst.

Just then, Bradley and Tank shoved the three friends aside as they came out of the classroom. "Don't bother moving, Mr. Pete. You're doing a good job putting yourself to use as a doorstop." Bradley sneered at PJ, momentarily giving Max a glance before leaving, Tank laughing in his friend's wake.

The three of them turned and continued down the hallway, simmering with annoyance.

"Well now I don't know who to hate more, that stuck up pigeon, Bradley, _or_ Omar."

"I hate them both." Bobby replied.

Max shook his head, taking control over his emotions, but said nothing.

~/~/~/~/~/~/

_A/N: So then! Seems that Omar has a bit of wit backing up that bad-boy musician look of his! What did you think of this scene? :D It seems that something inside Max is intrigued by this newcomer... What will happen next? That's for me to know, and for you to find out! R&R as always!_


	5. Bradley Uppercrust VS Omar Le Mat

Vying For Your Affection-

Paired Couple: Bradley UppercrustXMax GoofXOmar Le Mat/SLASH!/Lemon

_A/N: All characters within belong to their rightful owners. Now we're on to another exciting segment! Perhaps we'll be able to glance more into what Omar is all about… _

Bradley sat down in his seat, opening his bag with a rough jerk of his hands.

He was still in a sour mood from witnessing the confrontation in Classical Literature. Just seeing that transfer student going toe-to-toe with Goof boy put him on edge. He wanted to strike down the Canadian for the audacity to engage Maximilian in so much as a short, brief fight. Although he didn't feel more than a grudging, respectable resentment of Max, he felt protective at the same time.

It was an odd feeling.

…No matter.

There was no way that this Omar Le Mat was going to get anywhere near Max. He'd make sure of it!

Just then, Dr. Alexandre walked in, stifling all conversation from the surrounding crowd. Bradley was sort of glad he managed to get into this exclusive class; he didn't think he could stand being around Tank some days longer than he had to.

Alexandre, a diminutive woman in her prime, with steel gray hair pulled up in a tight, no-nonsense bun, a shrewd manner, and an impressive air of command stood at the head of the class room. After she finished adjusting her business casual skirt, she cleared her throat and began addressing the class.

"Good afternoon, class. Now before we begin to delve once again into the complex patterns of thought and the murky waters of the psyche, let me give out a couple of notices. First and foremost, your end-of-term exams are quickly approaching, so we will be heading into the topic of neuron pathways and cognitive processes next week. Secondly, we have a new student on campus that comes from Quebec, Canada…"

_What?_ _This guy, again?_

"Please welcome Omar Le Mat to our class." She turned to the door, where sure enough, stood the apathetic red-headed college Junior. "As I understand it, you were taking a Psychological Studies class at Rockland University, when you first came into America, is that correct?"

"Yea."

"Well, I'm sure you'll be able to catch up with us as we discuss personalities that are more prone to develop diseases. You may take your seat anywhere that's free."

The Canadian made his way up the steps to the atrium-like seats and sat at the nearest desk that was empty.

Unfortunately for Bradley, it was the seat in front of his.

~/~/~/~/~/

As Alexandre proceeded into a lecture, the class rapt with attention, the brunette kept glaring at the back of Omar's head with utter dislike. This was the guy that got into a confrontation with Max, and despite whether it was a good or bad, Bradley automatically detested him, wanting to only put him in a world of pain.

He knew he shouldn't care, considering Max was his ultimate rival that usurped his title as X-Games King last year, but somehow, seeing this ginger challenge the Goof boy set his teeth on edge. Bradley realized that he didn't want Omar anywhere near him—

The realization of that stunned him.

Was it because of power? Did he need to have some sort of control? Did he truly believe that he had to have this power over his rival in order to feel he had control, and without this power, he would feel incomplete?

The former X-Games King turned back to the lecture he was supposed to be paying attention to, not willing himself to think about those questions.

But it was just then that Alexandre spoke directly to him. "Mr. Uppercrust, could you please sit with Mr. Le Mat in front of you until he has purchased his own text book, so that he may follow along with us?"

Not wanting to upset one of his favorite professors, Bradley scowled and unwillingly uprooted himself from his seat and sat next to the insufferable red head. Dropping his book bag onto the floor, the Senior opened the book once again to page 209 and held out the other side of it to Omar so that they could both hold it up and read from it, since their desks were immovable.

Neither spoke as Dr. Alexandre read from a passage, but Bradley had the strangest feeling that Omar kept looking at him, much like how he spied him doing so with Max earlier this morning.

When he believed he caught Omar's eye a tenth time, Bradley cleared his throat and turned his attention to him, keeping a tight leash on his temper. "Something wrong?"

"No, not at all." Omar replied. "I just recognized you from class earlier this morning."

"I see." Bradley left it at that, finally figuring out why the guy had been looking at him.

"You also wouldn't happen to be _the _Bradley Uppercrust the Third, would you?"

"Yea. That's me. What about it?" His curiosity piqued, he abandoned pretending to read the text book in favor of trying to figure out what this line of thought was about.

"Well, I also recognize you from the ESPN special from last year…"

Bradley's rage skyrocketed through the roof, but he kept his expression calm and collected. He always tried to pretend that his Junior year had never happened. He thought that everyone had finally forgotten about it.

"So you were part of the Gammas that won the X-Games for five years, until Team 99 took over, huh?"

"What's your point?" Bradley hissed, ready to punch that smirk right off of Omar's face.

"I just don't understand how you could have lost against that Max Goof, despite his sorry brain capacity!"

Bradley stood from his seat, enraged as Omar laughed. He wanted to tell this red head to shut up; to never bring up those horrible memories ever again. Instead, he managed to grind out, "You stay away from him! You hear me?"

"Hmmm… What an odd thing to say. 'Stay away from him'?" Suddenly, Omar grinned. "Why would you care, if I didn't? What's so special about him?"

Bradley was at a loss for words. He couldn't answer that question, mainly because he wasn't so sure himself.

Whatever level of rivalry he and the Goof boy were at now, it was something he didn't look at too closely. All he knew was that they went from almost killing each other in the locker room showers a couple of months back, to an awkward relationship of domination and sexual tension bordered on lethal violence. It was like a drug he just couldn't quit. An adrenaline rush that was too sweet to let go of.

He ignored the question, but relentlessly threatened. "Don't you _ever_ bring up the X-Games. And I warn you now: stay away from Max Goof, if you know what's good for you."

"Or what?" The Canadian taunted. "Is he your boyfriend, or something?"

Before he could explode and disrupt the lecture, Bradley took his seat again and merely stated. "He's nothing of the sort! He will always be my rival, so long as I live! And there just isn't enough room for three!"

Omar lifted an eyebrow questioningly and sneered, "Yea, sure. Whatever gets you off."

"What is your problem?"

"I've haven't got a problem. I just find entertainment in seeing you riled up." At this, his smile faded and he got up in the Senior's face. "Now, I think we should make things interesting, don't you? How about we have ourselves a little competition, just me and you?"

Bradley sat back in his seat, contemplating. "What sort of competition, Mr. Le Mat?"

"How about we see who can become Max's biggest rival?"

"…Is that really your idea of a competition?"

"What? Don't think you can beat me?"

"Of course I can! While I'm blind folded, no doubt! But why a competition on who can be his enemy?"

"Why not? You seem to get something out of being his rival and I want to know what that is…"

Uppercrust sat there, stunned. He couldn't let anyone know who was lying in his bed almost every night, especially this guy. To compete against that, it was only inviting the potential that Omar would find out about his and Max's depth of rivalry-

_If you can call it that_, he thought sarcastically.

Then again, Bradley was confident that it wouldn't go that far. He would just simply have to keep that side of his rivalry under wraps. But who was he kidding? The more he thought about this "rivalry" with Max Goof, the more he was slowly admitting that it wasn't rivalry. Something happened between the two of them, something that was growing into-No! He wasn't going to start thinking in that way.

"What are the terms?"

"None." Omar stared back. "The only goal is to be his biggest rival by _any_ means necessary."

"What would you consider the fulfillment of this competition? How do we know if one of us wins?"

"Oh trust me, you'll know if one of us has." Omar promised softly.

"And if one of us wins?"

"The loser has to transfer to another school."

They grasped hands tightly, as if they were both trying to break one another's hand.

"Until then, Mr. Uppercrust."

The bell signaled the end of the lesson. Omar picked up his acoustic and book bag, leaving Bradley Uppercrust the Third behind to contemplate the implications of the bet.

He wasn't sure exactly what he got himself into, but he would see it to the end. He silently vowed to come out of this bet on top.

_A/N: So! Another chapter on this very intriguing fanfiction! What do you think will happen next? Next chapter is going to be intense! ;P_


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